Until Next Year
by Tahiri Solo
Summary: A Mother's Day special. Malinza Thanas pays a special visit to her mother . . . (Who, for those of you who don't know, is Gaeriel Captison. Remember her?) Contains spoilers for the Corellian Trilogy. Set sometime during NJO, probably around Balance Point.


Until Next Year  
By Tahiri Solo  
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Disclaimer: All the characters, places, and such mentioned in this fic are the property of Lucasfilm. I own nothing and am in no way getting paid for this story. Also, if this bears any resemblance to stories written by others, that is purely coincidental. No infringement is intended.  
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A/N: For some reason, I'm a big Gaeriel Captison fan. (No, I didn't say Gaeriel/Luke fan - while they were cute together in Truce at Bakura, I'm all for Mara.) I really wish they hadn't killed her off. They should bring her back or something, or at the very least have her daughter make an appearance. All we get is it saying somewhere in NJO - Balance Point I think - that Luke and Mara were sponsoring Malinza. *Sighs* Anyways, I decided to do what the actual authors won't - write about Malinza. So therefore, here is my Mother's Day fic, about Malinza Thanas. Happy Mother's Day, everyone!  
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I miss my mother.  
  
Well, my mother died when I was only four, so I don't remember her all that well, but it's the idea of having a mother that I miss.  
  
I keep a framed holo of Mom beside my bed, and I look at her every night before I go to sleep, and every night I feel that pang, that funny little empty spot inside me where my mother is supposed to be. The ache never goes away, but today it's especially hard.  
  
Today is the day the Bakurans have designated as "Mother's Day". It's a day set aside to celebrate all mothers, and everywhere I look, I see moms and their children. As a result, I stay in my room most of the day, trying not to cry. All of my friends have both parents, while I'm an orphan. That makes me feel strange, and more than a little jealous. All I have are pictures and vague memories.  
  
Well, that's not quite true. I do have two "sponsors" who live on Coruscant, and I'm pretty lucky to have them. They just happen to be two of the most famous people in the galaxy: Luke Skywalker and his wife, Mara Jade. Besides them both being Jedi Masters, he was a hero of the Rebel Alliance. The fact that such famous people are concerned about me is pretty stellar. It's nowhere near the same as having parents, but it's still something. They send me holomessages and gifts on special occasions, despite the fact that I'm not related to them and I've never even met Mara.   
  
Why are they doing this for me, then? Well, Luke knew my mother. They were "special friends" as I remember Mom telling me. The last day I ever saw Mom, I made Luke promise me that he would watch out for her. I know he tried, but things just happened that he couldn't help or change. I understand that and I'm not angry with him - at least, not anymore - but I think he still feels guilty and he's trying to take care of me, either to try and make it up to me or for my mother's sake.   
  
No one ever told me this, but I found out anyway: Luke and Mom were in love once, when they first met. Well, maybe not love, I'm not sure, but they did care for each other very much. I even found a holo of them together, and despite the fact that it never worked between them, they were still adorable together.  
  
I'm not saying that I wanted them to be together. I know Mom loved my dad and I know that Luke loves his wife, apparently very much. I'm glad that Luke is with someone he cares about so much, and even though it hurts I try to remember that Mom and Dad are together now and happy.   
  
I really wish that I could meet Luke and Mara. Well, I've already met Luke, but that was when I was four. I want to see him again, and I would really like to meet Mara. She knew my mom too, but not as well as Luke did. I think Mara is so pretty. I would love to have hair like hers - the exact color of a sunset. And she is an ex-Imperial, just like my parents were.   
  
I have a secret wish, something I've never told anyone before. I wish they would adopt me. Yes, I have family members here, but it's not the same as it would be if they adopted me. I know they want a baby, but can't have one because poor Mara is sick with a Yuuzhan Vong disease. (She's going to be all right, though - I know it.) If it's a daughter they want, then they could have me.  
  
I know that's silly and likely will never happen, but still, sometimes daydreams are all you have. Malinza Thanas Skywalker. I think that is a pretty name.  
  
I'd have cousins too: Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin. All three are Jedi, and Jaina is a pilot with Rogue Squadron. They're all a lot older than me (Jaina and Jacen, who are twins, are 17, and Anakin is a year or so younger) but still, it'd be incredible to be related to them. They're so young, and already famous, not just because of their family but because of their own deeds. I wonder if they ever met my mom. I'll have to ask Luke. Maybe he'll even arrange for me to talk to one of them. That would be astral.   
  
But I need to stop my daydreaming and start getting ready. I have a very special meeting I need to attend, one I go to every year.   
  
Walking over to my closet, I pull out my favorite sundress, the white one with the light blue flowers. Just as I reach over to grab the brush to fix my dark brown hair, there's a knock on my door.  
  
"Malinza, dear?"  
  
Madame Boble's voice. Oh, no. No one knows about my "yearly vigil" and no one is going to, not if I can help it. They all think I'm crazy because I haven't gone to my mother's memorial. Little do they know that I have, only in secret. I prefer to do that sort of thing in private, by myself. It's no one else's business. In case it isn't obvious, I'm a very private person. I'm quiet and hardly ever tell people what I am thinking or feeling. I assume it's a result of being an orphan.   
  
That's why I hate everyone saying that I'm "emotionally unstable" because they think I haven't visited the memorial in all these years. They think I'm in denial or something. They won't say this to my face, of course, but I hear them talking. I'm not "in denial" - of course I've gone to the memorial. I just don't care to talk about it, which I think is perfectly understandable and acceptable. It's a very private thing, and I'm a very private person. Like I said, it's none of their business.  
  
And if I want to keep it private, I had better say something to stall Madame Boble.   
  
"What is it?" I call back in my sweetest voice, hoping that does not intend to barge in and give me the "you need to come to terms with your mother's death" lecture. I'm not about to sit through that again.   
  
"I just wanted to see if you were all right."  
  
I make a face. Of course she does. Why wouldn't she, when she thinks I'm emotionally unstable or something else along those lines?   
  
"I'm fine," I reply.  
  
"Wonderful. Now, darling, Lady Corwell and I want to have a little talk with you."  
  
And here we go. Exactly what I expected. The lecture. Again.   
  
Ugh.  
  
"Madame, I really don't feel much like talking right now." I'm trying to keep the stubborn edge out of my voice, but I'm not sure it's working.   
  
"But dear, it really is important."   
  
Isn't it always. Maybe I should just try for the straightforward approach. "Madame, I'm not meaning to be rude, but I have no wish to discuss my mother's death again. We've had this conversation at least a hundred times before, and it's completely pointless. I refuse to waste my time doing it again."  
  
I can hear her sharp intake of breath, even through the door, and then her footsteps as she walks away - rather hurriedly. I'm relatively certain I offended her, but at least she's gone. I can apologize later. For now, I need to finish getting ready. I only do this twice a year - once for Mom, once for Dad - because it's too painful to do often. I want to look my best.   
  
It doesn't take me very long to finish. Now that I'm ready, I need to leave. It's almost dusk, and I always have done this at dusk. No real reason why, I just have.   
  
Climbing out of a window is not the easiest thing to do in a dress - especially when that window is two stories up - but I've had a lot of practice. I sneak out on a regular basis, though no one knows it. I've never been caught, not yet. Hopefully that's not going to change.   
  
Peeking out the window, I make certain that no one is nearby, then began my descent with the help of some vines.   
  
A few minutes later, I reach my mom's old garden. I remember playing in it when I was little. Now, no one ever goes in there. It's overgrown, but somehow, that only adds to its beauty.   
  
With quiet, hesitating steps, I walk up to my father's marker-stone, where his ashes are kept. Brushing my fingers gently over the stone, I whisper, "Hi Daddy. I love you, but I'm here to see Mom. It's Mother's Day, you know." My memories of my father are even more vague than the ones I have of my mother, but I can almost see him standing in front of me with a smile, nodding. "I love you, Daddy," I whisper again. "I'll see you on Father's Day." I come here on Father's Day as well to see my dad.  
  
With a deep breath, I go to the other stone right next to my father's.  
  
Mom's.  
  
"Hi, Mom," I say softly. "Happy Mother's Day." I take out a flower I carried with me and place it on top of the stone. "I brought you this. I know how much you loved flowers." Just as I do every year at this point, I start to cry. "I miss you, Mom. I really do. I have Madame Boble and Lady Corwell and everyone else, but it's not the same as having you. Luke Skywalker and his wife are sponsoring me too, did you know that? He got married to Mara Jade. I bet you're surprised, but they're really happy together. Just like you and Daddy are now, right?"  
  
I talk to Mom long into the night, crying a lot of the time. Finally, at dawn, I know I have to go. Getting up from where I sat on the ground all night, I touch the stone one more time. "I love you, Mom." My voice is hoarse from all my crying. "I have to go now, so this is goodbye - at least, until next year."  
  
With fresh tears streaming down my cheeks, I walk back inside. 


End file.
